


Paper Faces On Parade

by spicydanhowell



Series: All Together [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alcohol, Anorexia, Dan Howell and Phil Lester Are Married, Depressed Dan Howell, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hospitalization, Hurt Dan Howell, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Phanfiction, Phantom of the Opera - Freeform, Sad Dan Howell, Self Harm, dan howell has anorexia, phan ED, phan anorexia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 13:23:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11291544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicydanhowell/pseuds/spicydanhowell
Summary: Dan is struggling with anorexia and self harm, and must put on a brave face for his husband Phil, who is more absent than usual...//Reading part 1 of the series, Things Got Heated, is not required to enjoy this fic, merely suggested :-) //





	1. Facade

January 18th 2017

Dan took a deep breath, counted to three, and opened his eyes. 192 pounds. Disgusting. How could he let this happen? How did he let himself get _fat?_ Self conscious, Dan pulled a baggy tee shirt over his head, leggings, and loose athletic shorts over his legs. The cuts on his forearms had healed long ago, and he hadn’t felt tempted to do it at all lately. The feeling of starving was much better. Dan had cut himself for the first time around age thirteen when he felt lonely, like a freak at school, with few friends and no girlfriend or boyfriend. He had been chubby then too, and hopelessly self loathing. His parents had never found out about his self injury, and when he first starved himself at age fifteen, his parents attributed his weight loss to growth spurts and increased activity. Back then he had gone swimming at the community pool for about twelve hours per week, and ate only 800 calories per day. At 5’10” he weighed only 149 pounds at his lightest before giving into carbohydrate cravings in the winter time, and gaining back 20 pounds. Ever since his early teenage years, Dan had been fighting the same battle, with the same results. Weight loss, weight gain, weight loss, weight gain. Now it was time to break the endless cycle.

“Philly?!” Dan called to his husband.

“Eh?!” Phil groaned back from the lounge.

“I’m going for a run!”

“Eat breakfast first, have fun, drink water!”

“Of course!” Dan confirmed as he shuffled groggily into the kitchen to put together his breakfast. Yesterday Dan had eaten one cup of yogurt, an apple, and three slices of delivery pizza with a glass of Coke. He had fucked up, and today he would make up for it. Dan reached for one of the oranges in the bowl on the dining table, held it to his nose and smelled it. It’s smell was repulsively sweet, and made him gag. He opted instead for whole wheat crackers.

Breakfast

1 litre of water- 0 calories

4 whole wheat crackers- 36 calories

1 cup of black tea- 0 calories

Total- 36 calories, more than enough to get through a 30 minute jog.

* * *

 

Dan breathed heavily as each foot rhythmically scraped the pavement beneath him. When the cramps became too painful he opted to walk, but kept pushing through his daily 4 kilometers, and made it home in 33 minutes. Slow. He strode into the lounge on tired feet and lied down exhausted on the floor. Phil was eating cereal on the sofa in his pajamas.

“There’s my fit hubby!” he exclaimed admiringly. Dan chuckled at that, but couldn’t help but feel mocked. Phil was thin, maybe 160 pounds at about the same height, and looked good whether he exercised or not, no matter what he ate. Phil was lucky. “I haven’t been for a run in a week now, I need to get on that.” Phil said aloud to himself. That did it for Dan. He picked himself up off the floor and went for a shower.

The routine was the same every day. Face away from the mirror as you undress, shower in cold water to burn calories, 30 toe touches as the conditioner sits in your hair, and calf raises for the rest of the shower. He did not look in the mirror until after he dressed, and even then he only fixed his hair, and brushed his teeth. He knew Phil wanted to take showers together, but he never pressed the issue. Phil knew about Dan’s history of self harm, obviously, since he had seen him naked many times, and knew Dan preferred to have at least some skin covered at all times. What he didn’t know, however was how self conscious Dan was of his _weight._ Of course Phil noticed his weight fluctuations, but simply attributed them to small dietary or exercise changes, or the changing of seasons, and, quite frankly, he didn’t mind the changes at all.

What did concern Phil, however, was Dan’s moodiness. On many occasions, out of nowhere, Dan would become quiet, angsty, and reclusive. They would go weeks without having sex, and sometimes Dan wouldn’t let Phil touch him at all. Combined with the history of self harm, Phil formulated a few theories. Was Dan legitimately depressed? Could he be Bipolar? No. Much of the time Dan was quite level headed and content, so what was going on behind the scenes?

* * *

 

February 2nd 2017

The trip to Orlando for Phil’s birthday had been a massive flop. The southern United States had experienced a record breaking winter storm which kept the couple indoors for the entire three days. Stir crazy, petty arguments brewed, and Phil came down with hypothermia after taking a walk at night. Being stuck inside with Phil for the entire weekend, however, meant that Dan couldn’t escape from eating meals together, and couldn’t control his emotional outbursts. He blamed himself for Phil’s illness, and for the fighting, and as he stepped on the scale he whispered to himself _I hope it was worth it._ 187 pounds. Only five pounds lost in two weeks. He had to work harder.

“Do you want a smoothie, Dan?” Phil asked as Dan padded into the kitchen in pajamas and socks. 8 oz green smoothie = 80 calories.

“No, I had breakfast already.” Dan excused, rubbing his eyes. “Tea?”

They reclined on the sofa together watching TV, leaning on either arm rest with legs intertwined. Dan tickled Phil’s foot and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Oi! Stop it!” Phil chuckled, kicking his hands away and repositioning so he lied with his head in Dan’s lap. Dan stroked his messy black hair and sighed.

“You feeling better from the trip?” Dan asked gently. Phil chuckled again.

“Yes bear, you took good care of me.” Phil whispered. “Are you okay?” he added, looking up into Dan’s eyes. Dan’s pulse quickened.

“Of course. I’m great!”

Breakfast

1 cup of black tea- 0 calories

1 litre of water- 0 calories

Lunch

1 litre of water- 0 calories

Dinner

1.5 cups of homemade vegetable soup- 120 calories

Total: 120 calories

Dan was exhausted as they filmed _Dan vs. Phil: QUICK DRAW!_ that evening, and fell asleep promptly after filming, leaving Phil to clean up and edit all on his own. Awakened by hunger pains, however, Dan rolled over to see his husband in a deep slumber. The clock read 11:37. Why would Phil be asleep so early? His eyes must be tired from spending hours editing the new video. Poor baby. Dan kissed him on his warm, soft cheek and again on the top of his head. He smelled amazing, like baby powder and clean laundry.

The cramps in Dan’s stomach were intensely painful, and as he gulped down water in the darkened kitchen, his stomach ached in protest. He was exhausted, but couldn’t sleep. The moonlight reflected off of a bottle of whiskey on the counter top. This could make him sleepy, he thought, but no, he couldn’t drink it. Alcohol causes weight gain. Depressed and in pain, Dan stumbled back into the bedroom and lie on his back, waiting for rest that never came. Suddenly, he remembered the whittling knife in his bedside table drawer.

* * *

 

March 6th 2017

169 pounds. Dan’s reflection scared him. His eyes had bags and he was nearly always cold. Fresh cuts lined his forearms, but were hidden beneath long sleeved shirts and hoodies. His relationship with Phil had become unusually, painfully distant. They weren’t fighting, or being cold to one another, but took a lot of time to themselves. Phil slept all day and Dan was up all night. Dan had taken to editing all of their youtube videos, including the ones for Phil’s main channel. He needed something to distract him from eating, and fill the hours when sleeping was an impossible feat. Luckily, with Phil’s new sleepy obliviousness, he never noticed that Dan wasn’t eating.

Dan took his morning shower and dressed himself in a hoodie and too-big jeans. In the kitchen Phil was drinking a glass of juice and giggling as he watched pigeons fight on the fire escape. “Hey baby!” Phil called excitedly as he set down his glass and embraced Dan. “You smell nice!” Dan chuckled and hugged Phil back.

“Yeah, just washed my hair.” Phil might have been more sleepy than usual, but he was still bubbly and affectionate as ever. “You’ve been sleeping a lot.” Dan observed as he released Phil and poured himself a cup of tea. “Have you been feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’ve got quite a cold. But I’m drinking my juice and all.” Phil smiled and gestured at his glass. Dan noticed Phil had a few spots forming on his cheek and temple. He looked feverish.

“Are you sure it’s a cold? You look sick, Philly.” Dan fussed, placing the back of his hand on his husband’s forehead. It wasn’t too warm.

“I feel fine, baby.” Phil smiled with blushing cheeks. He wrapped his hands around Dan’s waist flirtily and looked into his eyes. “How about you? You aren’t sleeping much lately.”

“I’ve been doing all of your editing, sleepy head.” Dan teased. His easy-going, flirty facade had Phil fooled, and the matter wasn’t pushed further. He hadn’t even noticed how Dan had shrunk. Phil pushed Dan up against the wall and kissed him passionately. God he was sexy, even when he was ill.

“Speaking of which, did you finish editing _1-2 Switch_?” Phil teased, pulling away from the kiss. Dan smiled and shushed him, pulling him back in.


	2. A Crack In The Rose-Colored Glasses

March 25th 2017

Dan awoke at 9 am and published _14 YEAR OLD PHIL’S GAME - Dan and Phil Play: The Mark Of Oxin!_ He had fallen asleep at the computer at 4. A five hour sleep was a welcome surprise, as was the reading on the scale this morning. 159 pounds. For the first time in weeks, Dan looked in the mirror. His face was slim, his stomach flat, and his collarbones pronounced. He carefully pinched the tiny bit of fat on his arms and thighs. _Not quite done yet._ He gently shook Phil awake so they could film the second part of the gameplay and have it up before they went for drinks with friends that evening.

* * *

 

“I guess I’ll have a vodka soda.” Dan told Phil as he stood up to get another round for the group. Phil had had three strong Palomas that tasted tangy on Dan’s lips when they kissed. Dan would have loved a sip of his fruity drink, but the anxiety he felt when Phil offered was debilitating. Louise fussed over how skinny Dan looked, saying he’d disappear. He explained how he’d been running, and eating healthier. When he asked for a sparkling water Jack had asked him casually “Not drinking?” Dan wasn’t sure which he was more afraid of: eating and drinking with his friends, or drawing attention to himself. One, low calorie drink and a few pretzels was a reasonable compromise.  

Phil slid back down next to Dan and kissed his cheek. Phil didn’t look terribly buzzed, whereas their friends had flushed faces. Phil slid the drink over to Dan. “On me.” he flirted jokingly. Dan hadn’t eaten a bite all day, and it was nearing 10 o’clock. If he was going to drink, he knew he needed to snack too.

Breakfast- none

Lunch- none

Dinner

5 thin pretzels- 55 calories

1 vodka soda- 95 calories

Total: 150 calories

Dan felt tired and unsteady after the drink, much to his friends amusement. Hiccuping, Phil decided it was time to take his husband home. “I love you so much baby.” Dan mumbled as Phil guided him into the apartment. Phil chuckled.

“I love you too, you bloody lightweight.” he replied dreamily. Dan embraced Phil and passionately kissed him. “Are we doing this?” Phil asked vaguely, pulling back. They hadn’t had sex since his birthday.

“I don’t understand. What are we doing?” Dan teased. He felt suddenly very dizzy, but regained his balance. Phil picked Dan up easily and carried him to the bedroom.

“How are you even drunk?” he laughed, placing him on the bed. Phil pulled his tee shirt off and unbuttoned his jeans whilst Dan watched, motionless and smiling. Phil smirked and carefully undid Dan’s button up.

“Oh my god! Dan!” he cried. Dan was confused. Did Phil think he looked ugly? No. He had taken Dan’s right wrist in his hand and was examining the dark red scabs and bandages. Phil turned on another light so he could see Dan clearly. He was vulnerable and pathetic, hugging his knees to his chest, tears welling up in his eyes.

“I’m sorry!” he cried. He began to sweat and see spots as he sobbed, and Phil held him closely and rubbed his back.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” he comforted. “I’ve got you, baby.” It all made sense to Phil now. This is why Dan wasn’t sleeping. He was stressed, and overworking himself, and probably feeling very depressed. He tilted Dan’s chin up and they locked tearful eyes. “Is there anything you want to talk about?” Dan shook his head. “You’re exhausted aren’t you.”

“Yeah.” Dan choked.  Phil laid him down and removed his jeans. He kissed the bandage wrapped around Dan’s forearm, the scars that criss crossed his bicep, and finally his lips.

“I’m so sorry, Dan. Please get some rest and don’t worry about anything tonight okay? It’ll be all right.” he whispered as he turned off the light, crawled into bed next to his husband, and held him until they both fell into a sound sleep.

* * *

 

March 26th 2017

Dan awoke to find his whittling knife had disappeared. He had expected as much. Early that morning Phil had rounded up the razors, knives, scissors and pencil sharpeners and put them in a padlocked cabinet. He wanted to be careful not to humiliate Dan, or make him feel like he couldn’t be trusted, he only wanted to remove the temptation. Phil sat in the lounge and prepared himself to gently confront Dan before he noticed the safety precautions he had taken.

“Is this an intervention?” Dan joked anxiously as Phil smiled awkwardly at him from the sofa.

“No, I just want to talk.” Phil breathed. Dan sat down next to Phil, who fondled his hand lovingly as he spoke. “You’re an adult, Dan, and I trust you. But I can see that you’re very stressed right now. You aren’t sleeping, you’re working yourself very hard, and you’re cutting again. You haven’t done that in ages. I’ve put the knives and scissors and such in the cupboard for now, and I want to help you with your coping skills before I put everything back.” Phil paused and tried to gauge Dan’s reaction. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” Dan mumbled to his lap. “I understand, Philly.” He looked into Phil’s eyes and embraced him. Dan was relieved that Phil hadn’t mentioned his weight loss, as the last thing he wanted was for Phil to discover the truth and freak out, or get upset, or feel guilty. He chuckled, suddenly, and released Phil from his embrace. “Does this mean you wanna edit your own bloody videos?”

* * *

 

April 4th 2017

153 pounds. Dan began trying to sleep again with mild success, and Phil allowed him to take it easy and did most of the editing in the past week. As long as he appeared lively, Phil would believe everything was okay. He could not let Phil stop him from losing weight.  

Phil was still sleeping at 11 am when Dan left for his run. He was doing five kilometres nowadays, but it was taking him longer, and he had to walk about half of it. When Dan collapsed on the sofa upon returning home he saw spots and his fingers tingled. It had been almost 48 hours since Dan had last eaten, and he knew he needed to soon or he’d be in serious danger.

“Good morning sweetheart.” Phil chirped as he ambled into the lounge. Dan closed his eyes and attempted to regulate his breathing in order to remain conscious. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m- uhm- I think I’m dehydrated.” Dan replied weakly. Phil quickly kissed Dan’s sweating forehead and retrieved a glass of water and oyster crackers from the kitchen. He propped up Dan’s head and shoulders with a pillow and handed him the glass. “Thank you baby.”

“Eat these, you’ll need salt.” Phil advised, placing the box of crackers on the table. He watched Dan take a big gulp of water, and eat two of the tiny crackers before standing up. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Dan nodded and Phil padded into the hall, turned around, and called back into the lounge. “Remember to eat and drink before you run, and maybe cut down on the exercise a bit?”

 _“Si tu y insistez!”_ Dan shouted.

_“Danke!”_

_“Kannst du nicht?”_

* * *

 

Four oyster crackers and one cup of tea all day was not cutting it. Dan went live at 7:00 and he could barely stand, but he was terrified to eat. He needed something safe, something easy to get down. In the fridge was a bowl of leftover penne pasta with olive oil. It would do. He took a deep breath and managed to swallow two noodles, and then two more. That would have to do it; he was already beginning to feel fat and sick.

Dan was already a few minutes late when he slipped his leafy jumper over his head and patted down an unruly curl. Fuck. Why didn’t his mouse work? “Phil?! Where are the batteries?” No answer. He propped up his phone and went live at 7:06.

“…This is actually what my live shows should look like, except the webcam on an iMac is so bad, so this is really making me- um- this is… really making me rethink everything. Just one moment.” Dan’s ears rang as he dropped his phone on the bedroom floor. He couldn’t see, or feel his body. He felt like he was going to die. That was the last he remembered when he regained consciousness in A&E later the same night.


	3. No Man's Land

A tube ran through Dan’s nostril and a large piece of medical tape affixed it to his right cheek. An IV was fastened similarly to his right arm, and a pulse oximeter pinched his fingertip. He was dressed in only his boxer briefs and a hospital gown, and a thick blanket kept him warm. Phil sat anxiously beside him, held his hand, and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Dan was severely dehydrated and malnourished. How could this have happened? How did Phil not realize Dan was barely eating? DMs and tweets came pouring in from the live show viewers, and Phil wasn’t sure what to say. He eventually settled on a half-truth.

_Hi guys! Dan was very dehydrated and fainted mid live show. Please don’t worry! We are at the hospital right now and he’s doing much better!_

Phil turned off his phone and placed a hand on Dan’s stomach, feeling it slowly expand with each inhale, and retract with each exhale. It wasn’t until a few minutes to eleven that Dan’s eyes flicked open. Immediately, he panicked, touching the tube that ran through his nose, and whipping his head around to take in his surroundings. Phil took his husband’s hands and consoled him the best he could. Dan began to sniffle, and tears welled up in his eyes to match Phil’s, which were already trickling down his flushed face.

“I… Oh my god. The live show, Phil. I was live. What happened.” Dan croaked, wide eyed.

“Don’t worry about it, bear.” Phil breathed. “I told them you were dehydrated, and in hospital, nothing else.” He paused, searching for the words that could convey how distraught he was. “How did this happen?” he pleaded.

“I haven’t had much appetite the past few days. I’m just not feeling like myself, I guess.” Dan lied, feeling guilty before the words left his mouth. Phil wasn’t having it.

“Dan, look how thin you are. Have you eaten at all in the past month? You’re starving.”

“I’m barely underweight, Phil, I’m fine.” Dan countered.

“You won’t be soon, baby, you’re sick. You’re losing weight fast.” Phil leaned his forehead on his hand. “You don’t deserve to be in pain like this…” The door clicked open and a young, petite nurse entered quietly.

“Mr. Howell-Lester, good to see you awake!” chirped the nurse in a soft, accented voice. “Feeling okay?” she asked, checking and recording his pulse.

“Uh, yes, I’m fine.” Dan improvised.

“Wonderful. I’m Anna, I’ll be your nurse this evening.” American, Dan decided. But he wasn’t sure what region. “I’ve talked your husband through everything already, so I won’t bore you both. Your fainting spell was caused by an electrolyte imbalance, low blood sugar, and dehydration. Your husband says he believes you’ve lost a bit of weight lately, yes?”

“I have, yeah.” Dan provided, he felt horrifically exposed, and ashamed, even though this woman hadn’t accused him of anything.

“Are you letting yourself go hungry, or skipping meals?” the nurse inquired. Dan felt close to crying again at that.

“Sometimes, yeah.” Dan managed to choke out. The nurse jotted down a few notes, and nodded. She flashed them both a sad smile, showed Dan the button to press for assistance, and gave them a bit of privacy.

* * *

 

April 5th 2017

As soon as Dan had eaten solid food, he was discharged with instructions to see a nutritionist and a therapist, as well as to eat small, healthy meals throughout the day, get plenty of rest, and drink two litres of water each day. Much to his surprise, and relief, he had not been formally diagnosed with anorexia. The word itself had not been uttered, but it loomed over the room at every moment. Dan was thankful to leave, but wasn’t prepared for what awaited him at home.

“We’re going to eat together again.” Phil announced as they both sat cross legged on the bed. “Three times per day. I won’t let you hurt yourself anymore.” Dan made a pained face.

“Philly… It’s not easy to eat. Sometimes I just can’t get anything down, I freak out.” he confessed. Phil wrapped his arms around Dan’s tiny frame.

“We’ll start slow, I promise.” Phil paused. Dan was unconvinced and wracked with anxiety, but he nodded, and lied down to rest.

* * *

 

Dinner that night was fish tacos. Dan was waiting in the lounge half watching _The Phantom Of The Opera_ whilst Phil assembled their food.

_“Masquerade! Paper faces on parade,_

_Masquerade. Hide your face so the world will never find you._

_Masquerade! Every face a different shade,_

_Masquerade. Look around, there's another mask behind you.”_

He placed two tacos on each dish, and poured a protein shake into a glass for Dan. He had removed the plastic labels from the bottles so Dan couldn’t read the calorie content. This proved to be anxiety provoking, but ultimately necessary. Dan protested wildly when Phil placed the food in front of him.

“I’ll be sick. I can’t eat it I can’t do it.” he whined, jumping up from the sofa.

“Dan, please.” Phil begged. “Drink the shake at least, you haven’t eaten since we left the hospital this morning.”

“It’s fine, Phil, I ate plenty, leave me be.” Dan snapped.

“I won’t leave you be, Dan. If you don’t eat, eventually you’ll be admitted to a hospital, or you’ll die.”

“Phil, look at me. I am fine! I’m barely smaller than you. I’m not dying.”

“You fainted last night. You lied unconscious in the hospital being fed by tubes. I can’t see that happen to you again. You deserve to get better…” Phil began to cry frustrated tears at this, the room silent aside from the music playing quietly from the television.

_“…Drink it in, drink it up, ‘til you’ve drowned in the light in the sound…”_

He sighed and stood up. “I’m getting a Sprite.” He picked up the plates and left the protein shake on the table. “Please drink that. It’s all I ask.”

Phil placed the food in the refrigerator and reached for a bottle of white wine. He no longer felt hungry. Guilt crushed him like a weight as he took a long swig from the bottle. He had been hiding his drinking from Dan the best he could, but it had clouded his eyes from seeing the damage Dan was doing to himself, and now he was at it again.

“I need to come clean to you, Dan.” Phil stated abruptly, re entering the lounge. Dan looked perplexedly into Phil’s eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Dan’s eyes were like saucers on his gaunt face. Phil exhaled deeply and looked away.

“I feel guilty.” he said softly. His voice trembled. “I didn’t realize what was going on this whole time.” He paused. “I felt lonely. I started drinking. Ever since that fight when we were on holiday, I’ve been drinking whenever I’m lonely, and we’re so distant lately, it’s all the time. I’ve just been wondering what I did to drive you away. I’ve been in a haze and never noticed you wasting away.

Dan was in shock. How could Phil feel guilty? It was so obvious to Dan now, why Phil looked sick, acted strangely, and slept through much of the day. Dan had been so absorbed in slowly killing himself, he failed to see his partner doing the same. “Oh, Philly, I’m here for you.” Dan assured, shedding silent tears as he embraced his husband. “You won’t be lonely anymore. Please don’t feel guilty. We can get through it all together.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! my tumblr is spicydanhowell. i'd love to hear your feedback!


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